


A Night To Remember

by Marblez



Category: Titanic (1997)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fix-It, Minor Character Death, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 05:17:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20109757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marblez/pseuds/Marblez
Summary: WRITTEN AS PART OF THE JULY 2019 "FIX-IT" CHALLENGE ON ROUGH TRADE.Rose was safe. That was all that mattered. He watched the lifeboat containing the woman he loved move slowly away from the dying vessel upon which he stood. And now it was up to him to try and survive long enough to see her again.





	1. Prologue

** A NIGHT TO REMEMBER  
** **PROLOGUE**

“The boats are gone!”

Jack felt panic swell within him at the sight of the empty davits where the lifeboats had once sat, not for himself but for the young woman shivering beside him, the young woman who’d just risked her own life to rescue him from certain death handcuffed to a pipe for a crime he hadn’t committed as the ship was rapidly swallowed by the freezing waters of the Atlantic.

Rose.

He’d been bewitched by the First Class Passenger the first time he’d seen her, dressed in one of the finest frocks…gowns, she called them…he’d ever seen and flirting with suicide.

It hadn’t just been her beauty that had drawn him to her, although he’d admit that the flame red hair had been what had first caught his eye; no, it had been her wild spirit, her need to make her life worth something more than what her mother had planned for her.

“Colonel!” she called out suddenly, leading the gaggle of Third Class Passengers that had managed to reach the deck with them over to an older gentlemen who was escorting two finely dressed women. He seemed startled by her appearance. “Are there any boats left?”

“Yes, miss,” he answered at length, drawing his gaze up from where the fabric of her dress was plastered to her womanly curves following their previous submersion. It left little to the imagination… “There are still a couple of boats all the way forward. This way, I'll lead you!”

As kind as his offer was they didn’t have time to move as slowly as he and his current charges would require and so Jack, making the decision for them all, reached out to take hold of Roses hand and took off as fast as his legs could carry him, all but dragging Rose along. Tommy and Fabrizio just about managed to keep up but some of the others who had followed them up were lost in the crowds of people desperately trying to save themselves.

“Music to drown by,” Tommy laughed bitterly as they rushed past the ships talented band who were indeed playing music even as the chaos grew around them. It struck Jack that those men must all possess a special kind of bravery; rather than attempting to save themselves they were attempting to keep people calm. “Now I know I'm in First Class…”

“There!” Jack felt himself gasp as they caught sight of Second Officer Lightoller gesturing for a uniform seamen to help an elderly woman to board the lifeboat he was guarding. Yes, that was definitely the correct word for what he was doing given that his other hand held his pistol, finger stretched across the trigger guard but ready to be used. “Come on, let’s try it!”

“Women and children, please,” Lightoller ordered firmly. “Women and children only.”

Tommy cursed behind him.

“Step back, sir.”

Wrapping his arms around arose in attempt to give her some of his warmth they waited their turn, all the while realising that it was highly unlikely that Jack, Tommy or Fabrizio would be allowed to board the boat when even a father of two young children wasn’t.

“Goodbye for a little while...” the man was saying as helped his wife and children board the boat, hiding his fear from them as best he could. “Only for a little while. Go with mummy.”

His wife stumbled, blinded by the tears she was trying to hide.

“Hold mummy's hand and be a good girl. That's right.”

“Jack…” Rose gasped weakly, her hands tightening on his wrists. “I don’t…”

A young man pushed forwards, pressing a note into a young woman’s hand,

“Please get this to my wife in DeMoines, Iowa.”

It was hopeless, for the three of them at least; no men were being allowed to board.

Jack sighed deeply, turning to Tommy and Fabrizio who wore identical looks of defeat,

“You better check out the other side.”

They nodded, patting him on the shoulder before running off in search of a safe route.

Once they were out of sight Jack took a couple of steps forwards, forcing Rose to move.

She gasped loudly, shaking her head as she announced firmly,

“I'm not going without you.”

No.

That wasn’t an option.

If she refused to go without him she wouldn’t go at all and he couldn’t have that.

“Get in the boat, Rose.”

An unexpected voice caused both of them to jump a moment later,

“Yes. Get in the boat, Rose.”

Cal.

Her fiancé, her jilted fiancé who had framed Jack with the theft of his ridiculous necklace.

Rage boiled inside of Jack as he faced the arrogant prick who thought of Rose as a mere possession, as something that he was entitled to due to the circumstances of his birth. 

He was pleased when Rose instinctively tucked herself further into his arms.

“My God, look at you,” Cal uttered, his disapproval obvious as he took in her bedraggled appearance, tugging of his long brown coat and holding it out to her. “Here, put this on.”

She obeyed him, seeking the warmth rather than the modesty he obviously intended it for.

“Quickly, ladies, step into the boat,” Lightoller call out sharply. “Hurry, please!”

There was no time for this, Jack realised, and tugged her away from Cal.

“Go on,” he urged her, desperate to get her to safety. “I'll get the next one.”

“No,” she argued stubbornly. “Not without you!”

Until that very moment her stubbornness had been something he’d admired.

Now he just wished that she’d do what he said without argument.

He couldn’t let her stay onboard the sinking ship…

He couldn’t…

“There are boats on the other side that are allowing men in,” Cal interjected suddenly, coming to Jacks aide if only for the sake of Rose. “Jack and I can get off safely. Both of us.”

Jack could hear the lie in his voice, plain as day.

He only hoped that Rose had missed it.

“See? I'll be alright,” Jack murmured, forcing the most sincere and reassuring smile that he could muster onto his face. “Hurry up so we can get going; we got our own boat to catch.”

“Get in,” Cal urged alongside him, purposefully jostling him. “Hurry up, it's almost full.”

Second Officer Lightoller reached out, grabbing her arm and urging her to step into the lifeboat even as she desperately tried to reach out for Jack. The uniformed man was strong, however, and determined to get as many people to safety as he could so all she managed to do was brush their fingertips together before she was ushered into the last remaining seat. 

No one was allowed to board the lifeboat after Rose.

A cold feeling settled over Jack as he realised just how close they had come to not getting her off of the ship and that had it not been for Cal, of all people, she wouldn’t have gone.

“Lower away!”

A small cry escaped the boats occupants as it dropped suddenly before halting, only to then begin lowering at a slow and steady rate under the instruction of Second Officer Lightoller.

Jack rushed forwards to meet her gaze as the boat was lowered jerkily down the side of the ship, pressing himself against the railing between Cal and the father separated from his wife and daughters. He could just make out the tears falling freely down her cheeks as she gazed up at him and offered her a smile, sadness creeping in despite his efforts to keep it positive.

Cal hummed thoughtfully, his eyes also glued to Rose,

“You're a good liar.”

“Almost as good as you,” he murmured back, forcing himself not to show weakness to the other man by shivering despite how cold he now felt; the metal cuffs around his wrists felt like ice on his skin. He couldn’t help but ask, “There’s no…there’s no arrangement, is there?”

“Oh, there is,” Cal informed him with a cruel smirk. “Not that you’ll benefit much from it.”

It didn’t surprise Jack to learn that the other man had made an arrangement.

It was cowardly, bribing his way off of the ship during the disaster; Jack knew his chances of surviving the night were slim to none but he’d go down fighting if it meant Rose was safe.

“I always win, Jack,” Cal informed him coldly. “One way or another.”

Looking away from the young woman who he had just reduced to the prize in a game that he and Jack had been playing he offered Jack a true lily heartless smile as he murmured,

“Pity I didn't keep that drawing; it’s going to be worth a lot more by morning.”

Having said all that he felt he needed to Cal turned, leaving to find whoever it was he’d made his arrangement with, and Jack was left to watch the progress of the lifeboat alone.

There was a brief moment where he was afraid Rose was going to do something stupid; she stood up and moved as though she was going to jump back onto the sinking ship at one of the lower decks but one of the sailors who’s been put in the boat to man the oars grabbed her around the waist and bodily pulled her back down into her seat until it was too late.

It was a relief to see the boat settle down onto the water, to watch the sailors quickly and efficiently free craft from the block and tackles which has been used to lower it down, to see them carefully lift the oars out from underneath the terrified passengers and set them in the correct crutches. Nothing compared to the feeling of relief that swept through his body when they began to row the lifeboat away from the sinking ocean liner, taking the lifeboats occupants away from the danger. He watched for as long as he dared, never taking his eyes off of the vivid red hair that he could just see thanks to the lights still illuminating the scene.

Rose was safe.

That was all that mattered.

Now all he could do was try to survive long enough to see her again.

~ * ~


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - Canon Suicide as per the original movie

** A NIGHT TO REMEMBER  
** **CHAPTER ONE**

“Stop pushing!”

Hurrying up to the group of men jostling each other in their desperation Jack looked around frantically for his friends, flinching when he heard a man cry out in fear followed by a splash.

“Stay back!” he heard the Officer desperately trying to regain control call out. “Stay back!”

And then he heard a familiar voice, accent thick with anger,

“Will you give us a chance to live, you limey bastards!”

“Tommy!” Jack called out, pushing his way through the crowd until he literally barrelled into Fabrizio who was stood with Tommy, the two friends hugging tightly. “What’s happening?”

“They won’t let any men on board even though there’s no more women or children here.”

Jack frowned, glancing between the half empty lifeboat, the crowd of men who just wanted a chance to survive the night before finally turning his gaze on the Officer aiming his gun at Tommy. It was one of the senior Officers, he realised, First Officer Murdoch, and he looked terrified but not of the fact that they were sinking; no, he was terrified of the crowd of men.

“I'll shoot any man who tries to get past me! Get back!”

He meant it, too, Jack could see that as plain as he could see his fear.

“Bastard!”

Tommy was angry, and rightly so, but he certainly wasn’t helping the situation.

“Get back!”

“Tommy, come on,” Jack urged his friend, tugging on his arm. “Let’s try another boat…”

“This ones not full yet!” Tommy responded sharply, still glaring at the frightened officer who was desperately trying to keep his pistol steady as he aimed it towards them. “And it won’t ever be full if they don’t just fill it with us who are already here and damn their regulations!”

“Maybe Jack is right,” Fabrizio murmured, his eyes fixated on the gun. “We try another…”

“No! They should just…”

And then, just like a bad penny, Cal shouldered his way through the crowd.

He seemed particularly stunned when the gun was moved over to point at him.

“We had a deal, damn you!”

Jack couldn’t help but smirk when the Officer responded by reaching his free hand into his uniform jackets pocket, a look of disgust growing on his face as he shoved a large bundle of money at Cal. The arrogance of the man was so shocked that he made no move to catch the money before it fluttered uselessly to the deck below them, informed by everyone present.

“Your money can’t save you any more than it can save me,” Murdoch sneered at the taller man before jabbing him in the chest with the tip of the pistol as he snapped, “Get _back_!”

Cal, stunned, stumbled obediently back a couple of paces.

It was then, just when another officer was calling out for women and children to come forwards that the unthinkable happened; a young man, his eyes wide with pure terror, pulled himself up the ropes that would eventually lower the lifeboat down the short distance to the water and attempted to throw himself inside the half-empty vessel…

A shot stopped him, his body going limp and collapsing to the deck amidst screams.

Jack felt the man beside him shift and turned his head just in time to see him shove Tommy forwards. He called out something, it might not even have been words, and his hands flew forwards to grab the straps of the lifebelt Tommy was wearing. Throwing himself backwards into Fabrizio the three of them collapsed in a heap on the deck, followed by the body of the man who’d shoved Tommy as Murdoch’s second bullet struck him in the centre of his chest.

“Tommy!” Fabrizio cried out. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine…” Tommy responded, his voice hollow as his eyes fell on the well-dressed young man lying in front of him, a red stain growing on his crisp white shirt as the light fled from his eyes. Around them the crowd shifted back nervously; Murdoch was still pointing the gun towards them although his glassy eyes were on the men he’d just killed. His subordinates, Jack noticed, continued working. “Although I don’t know how much longer that’ll be true…”

He could’ve been referring to the fact that the ship was sinking beneath their feet.

His words could’ve easily been interpreted to imply that Murdoch was going shoot them all.

And it was these words that seemed to push the officer over the edge.

Literally.

He lowered his gun to his side, the movement drawing Jacks attention to the fact that the man had been firing left handed which was a little bit odd, and stumbled back a few paces until his back was parallel with the edge of the ship. It seemed as though it was only the stiffness of his uniform that was holding him up for a moment, guilt flooding into his eyes.

A moment later his right hand came up, offering his fellow crew members as crisp a salute as Jack had ever seen, the guilt replaced with determination as he raised the pistol up to…

“Will, no!”

The barrel of the gun had no sooner pressed against his own temple than the shot rang out.

Jack felt sick.

Was it guilt over the lives he’d taken?

Or had he suddenly realised that they were all dead anyway?

Had he decided to take the quick and relatively painless way out?

Jack honestly didn’t know but as he watched the officers now lifeless body fall over the side of the ship, landing face down in the water his determination to survive only grew stronger.

With that in mind he hauled himself to his feet, pulling Tommy up with him.

Fabrizio followed, scrambling to his feet unsteadily.

As though they’d broken a spell with their movement the crowd around them came back to life, voices raising as they begged to be let aboard by the young officer who had called out to Murdoch before he’d pulled the trigger. He looked terrified but wouldn’t back down.

“Stand back, damn you!”

“This is hopeless,” Jack muttered, grabbing his friends by the arms and pulling them away from the lifeboat. This time Tommy went with him willingly, still in shock after his close brush with death, and Fabrizio was so eager to get away that he ended up ahead of the other two. “We’ll have to try one of the other boats or perhaps we can fashion a raft…”

None of them noticed Cal turning away from the lifeboat at the same time as them, pushing his way through the crowd to where he had seen the little girl in the ragged dress earlier on.

She was now his only hope of getting off of the ship.

As Jack, Tommy and Fabrizio hurried away from the chaotic scene Cal grabbed the girl, returned to the boat and lied through his teeth in order to be allowed to board with her.

“We could use some of the deck chairs,” Tommy suggested as he saw some of their fellow passengers throwing the small bits of wood over the side before jumping after them. “They should keep us afloat at least. Maybe we could swim to one of the lifeboats in the water?”

“Maybe…”

A body thudded into Jacks, dragging a grunt of pained surprise from him and a cry of fright from the other person as she fell backwards, her much lighter body giving way to his. It was a young woman, he discovered, with a baby in her arms that began to wail following her fall.

Beside her stood a boy no older than three years old.

Judging by their clothes they were Second Class passengers although only the mother was wearing a lifebelt, not that Jack imagined one would fit the boy anyway let alone the baby.

It was automatic for him to apologise as he helped her to her feet.

“Please, I’m looking for my husband,” the young woman babbled tearfully once she was on her feet. “My daughter…she…she got lost in the crowd and he went to look for her and I…”

As she spoke the little boy leaned against her, prompting her to rest her hand on his head.

“I don’t know what to do…”

Jack felt something churn in his stomach.

She sounded so young, younger than a woman with three children out to sound anyway.

It made him think of Rose...

If she were in this young woman’s place and he was her husband he would hope that someone would help her, that someone would help get the three of them to safety.

“Well, first of all we need to secure that little one to you,” he announced firmly, nodding to the baby. She nodded mutely, handing over her youngest child when Jack held out his arms. “Take your lifebelt off. We’ll strap your baby to your chest and then put the belt back on.”

It took all four of the adults to manage such a feat, using her shawl to secure the baby with its head positioned against her throat so that its head wasn’t covered by the bulky lifebelt.

“Now, for your son…”

“Here, use mine,” Tommy offered, pulling off his own lifebelt. It was immediately obvious that it would do nothing to help the little boy as it would just slip off of him if he did go in the water. A long moment past before Tommy turned to him and said. “Pick him up, Jack.”

“What?”

“We’ll do the same with him and you as we did with the baby,” the Irishman explained. “I’m too bulky, the lifebelt wouldn’t fit us both, and no offence Fabrizio but Jack is stronger…”

“None taken,” Fabrizio responded instantly, nodding at Jack. “You take him.”

It was the pleading look in the young woman’s eyes that eventually got him to agree.

The boy wasn’t heavy, thankfully, despite his thick clothing, and he didn’t protest to being picked up by a stranger. Nor did he protest when they used a length of rope that had been abandoned nearby to secure him to Jacks chest, his head tucked under Jacks chin in almost exactly the same way as his baby siblings head was tucked under their mothers. The boy was encouraged to put his arms over Jacks shoulders and when the lifebelt was pulled over the two of them Fabrizio and Tommy secured the two sets of ties on each side above and below where his little legs emerged. Once the boy was as secure as he could possibly be they turned their attention back onto searching for a way to get off of the floundering ship.

“We should head to the back of the boat,” Jack announced, pointing in the direction that most people still trapped aboard the ship were heading. “She’s going down by the front so the back will stay out of the water for the longest. That gives us more time to find a lifeboat or to fashion a raft of some kind.” He paused, waiting for his friends and the young woman to nod in agreement. “If…if we do end up jumping we want to leave it as long as possible.”

He swallowed thickly, looking out at the people already in the after.

Some of them weren’t moving…

“That water…that water is going to be colder than you can possibly imagine and we won’t survive long in it…” he explained thickly, the seriousness of his voice causing all of them to shudder. “If we want to make it to a lifeboat then we don’t want to be in it for too long.”

Fabrizio nodded.

“Sounds good to me,” Tommy agreed. “Lead the way.”

Extending his hand to the young woman whose child he was now responsible for Jack gave her as reassuring a smile as he could muster when she took it and started to lead them aft.

~ * ~

**A/N **I just wanted to add note to say that the films portrayal of First Officer Murdoch’s death, which I have kept for the sake of continuity to the films plot line, has been a much debated topic over the years. In fact it so upset members of his family who claimed that it would damage his duly deserved heroic reputation that studio executives flew to Murdoch's hometown to issue an apology for the way he was depicted. According to the films Wiki page on Murdoch James Cameron has stated that _his depiction of Murdoch is not of a man ‘gone bad,’ a ‘cowardly murderer,’ but of an “honourable man” who accepts full collective responsibility for the predicament they are in and for the death of 1500 people. He is overwhelmed by feelings of desperation and makes the ultimate payment by sacrificing his own life. Cameron’s intention was not to portray Murdoch as a ‘murderer’ as many have suggested, but the very opposite. Cameron's high opinion of Murdoch is revealed when he says, “I’m not sure you’d find that same sense of responsibility and total devotion to duty today. This guy had half of his lifeboats launched before his counterpart on the port side had even launched one. That says something about character and heroism” (James Cameron’s Titanic, p.129). _


	3. Chapter Two

** A NIGHT TO REMEMBER ** **  
CHAPTER TWO**

_“Partly a groan, partly a rattle, and partly a smash, and it was not a sudden roar as an explosion would be; it went on successively for some seconds, possibly fifteen to twenty – attributed to the engines and machinery coming loose and smashing through everything and everyone in their way as gravity pulled them downwards.” – Lawrence Beesley_

_~*~_

“Christ Almighty,” Tommy gasped, grabbing hold of the A-Deck after rail as the four of them stumbled up to it, referring to the awful sound that has just filled the air. “What was that?”

“Never mind what it was,” Jack muttered, bending over the railing as much as he could with the small body strapped to his front. It was clear below. “Help me lower her down…”

Catching on to what he wanted them to do Fabrizio quickly climbed over the railing, holding himself in place on the other side with one hand so that he could hold one of her hands as the mother followed him over the railing, Tommy and Jack steadying her from behind. Once she was safely over, her long skirts causing a couple of issues, Tommy quickly followed and took hold of her other hand so that they could then lower her down to the deck below them as carefully as they could. She stumbled slightly when the released her hands, allowing her to drop the last couple of feet, but she was perfectly steady by the time they dropped down to land on either side of her. It was then Jacks turn to pull himself over the rail and jump.

His landing was less graceful than it normally would have been due to the fact that the boy, lights as he was, had made him unusually top heavy but thankfully his friends were there to catch him as he lurched dangerously. Thanking them automatically Jack reached out for the mothers hand and pulled her towards the crush of people fighting to get down the narrow stairs to the sunken well deck, some of them literally clawing at each other in their utter desperation to get to the back of the ship. It seemed impossible to believe that just hours ago most of the people scrambling over one another to reach the stars would never have dreamed of going down onto the well deck, a place reserved for the Third Class passengers.

“This is hopeless…”

“No, it’s not,” Jack countered the mothers frightened whimper, pulling her away from the crowd and over to the B-Deck railing. “We’ve done it once, we can do it again. Over we go.”

It was a little bit more complicated this time however, the distance between the railing and the deck below more than double what it had been before and swarming with passengers.

“Jack!” Tommy cried out, pointing to the base of the crane where a man was jumping down from, the area below him clearer than where it was below them. Jack nodded in agreement. Once again they worked as a team to get the mother over the railing and then along to the base of the large crane, Tommy taking the lead this time. “Careful now; it’s quite a drop…”

Jack himself had only just begun climbing over the railing when his friends lowered her down and could only watch as she landed badly, her ankle giving out beneath her weight.

“Shit!”

His friends jumped down to asset her but a man was already there, helping her to her feet, a man that Jack almost fell on top of in his haste to follow them onto the well deck; this time he jumped backwards so that if he did fall it would be onto his back and not onto the boy.

“Steady there,” the man, who was dressed in a crisp white bakers uniform and who’s breath reaped of strong liquor, muttered as he turned from helping the mother regain her footing to steadying Jack, frowning when caught sight of the boy. “Huh. Well, that’s a clever idea…”

“Come on!”

A cry of pain escaped the mother as she tried to follow Jack, her ankle giving way again.

“I’ve got her!” Tommy cried out, sweeping her up into his arms as best he could. “Go!”

All around them people were desperately trying to move towards the back of the ship, a great swarm of bodies desperately seeking salvation, and it wasn’t easy for any of them.

The ship groaned beneath their feet, shuddering threateningly by the time they reached the crush of people desperately trying to make it to the marrow staircase up to the poop deck.

Jack showed no mercy as he pushed his way through, literally shoving people of his way so that Tommy could follow behind him carrying the mother in his arms. Fabrizio, followed by the baker, brought up the rear. When he finally did manage to get them onto the staircase Jack found himself stuck behind a man who was praying as he moved slowly up the stairs.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…”

Shaking his head in frustration Jack shoved him between his shoulder blades,

“You wanna walk a little faster through that valley there?”

As they emerged onto the poop deck a terrifying groan came from behind them, prompting Jack to look over his shoulder just in time to see one of the enormous funnels drop into the water like a tree that had been felled by an axe. Screams rose and were silenced as those who had been in the water were crushed beneath its deadly weight, a tremendous wave of water rising up and almost swamping the lifeboat that they were still be trying to launch.

_“Dio mio…” _Fabrizio breathed, making the sign of the cross over his chest as he too watched with wide eyes as the funnel floated briefly on top of the water before it began to sink along with the rest of the ship. “Those poor people. They didn’t…they didn’t stand a chance…”

“We need to keep moving,” Jack gasped as he forced himself to look away, one of his hands coming up to cradle the back of the boys head. Unlike many of the other children trapped aboard the dying vessel he wasn’t crying although Jack could feel his tears wetting his neck. The baby wasn’t crying either but it was probably too young to understand. “Come on!”

With the ever increasing incline of the deck beneath their feet it was impossible for Tommy to carry the young mother any further so she was placed back on her feet and pulled along by the strong Irishman and the sprightly Italian, her limp hindering their speed rather a lot.

There must have been hundreds of people already on the poop deck before they made it there, some clinging desperately to whatever they could find, others jumping overboard.

And then Jack caught sight of Father Byles, an Irish Priest who had been very popular amongst the Third Class passengers for the care and concern he had shown for them.

He was surrounded by a large group of passengers, clinging to anything that they could including each other as they huddled on their knees around the priest as he prayed, he himself unable to hold onto anything as his hands were extended so that as many of the group that wanted to touch him could do so. As such a middle-aged man was stood at the priest’s side, a hand hooked into the back of the man’s waist so as to anchor him in place.

“Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinner now and at the hour of our death. Amen.”

In spite of the men pulling her along the mother slowed to a stop, staring almost longingly at the crowd of people who’s eyes were fixed firmly on the priest rather than on what was going on around them. A glance at her eyes was all Jack needed to know that she wanted to stop and pray with them but they couldn’t, they didn’t have the time if they wanted to live.

“Hail Mary, full of Grace, the Lord is with thee…”

Spinning around he moved to stand directly in front of her.

“Come on,” he all but shouted in her face, causing her to gasp and meet his eyes. She had beautiful hazel coloured eyes that under any other circumstance he would be tempted to sketch. “We can't expect God to do all the work for us. We have to keep moving. This way!”

In the time it had taken him to speak to her the incline had increased dramatically, forcing them all to find handholds in order to keep moving towards the back of the ship, and many of their fellow passengers were beginning to struggle. A man some way in front of them lost his grip and slid backwards into Jack, prompting him to shove him across to the railing else risk crushing the boy between them. The man just managed to grab hold and save himself.

On and on they climbed, their feet slipping on the deck as around them the lights flickered.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, they reached the stern rail of the ship and were able to find a gap at the base of the flagpole which was big enough for all of them to take hold of the cold metal bars, Tommy putting his arm around the mother’s waist to help her.

Higher and higher the back of the ship rose, people screaming as they lost their footing.

And through it all Father Byles voice, cracking with emotion, carried over it all,

“...and I saw new heavens and a new earth. The former heavens and the former earth had passed away and the sea was no longer. I also saw a new Jerusalem, the holy city coming down out of heaven from God, beautiful as a bride prepared to meet her husband. I heard a loud voice from the throne ring out this is God's dwelling among men. He shall dwell with them and they shall be his people and He shall be their God who is always with them…”

As the lights flickered again, threatening to go out, Jack found himself looking up at the flag and was struck by the thought that it had only been a couple of days ago that he had met Rose in this very spot, that fate had returned him to the very place he had promised to jump from should she feel the need to go through with her suicide attempt. He couldn’t stop himself from chuckling, somewhat bitterly, as he returned his eyes to the chaos around him.

“Something amusing you, Jackie boy?”

“This is where Rose and I first met,” Jack explained to Tommy. “God, it seems so long ago…”

“You’ll see her again,” Tommy announced, his voice oddly firm. “I know it.”

“I hope so…”

A tearful cry surprised them all,

“_Fabrizio!” _

_“Helga!” _

The group turned to find none other than the Dahl family clutching at the railings on the other side of the flagpole, prompting Fabrizio to struggle over to where the young woman he himself had fallen in love with was struggling to hold on. Their reunion was bittersweet.

“Shh, don’t cry,” a woman’s voice caught Jack attention, dragging his gaze down to where she was sat on a bollard comforting a boy only a couple of years older than they boy he carried, tears flooding down her cheeks. “It'll be over soon, darling. It'll all be over soon.”

Glancing down he met the eyes of the little boy strapped firmly to his chest, discovering that unlike his mother he had the brightest blue eyes that Jack had ever seen. He was gazing up at Jack surprisingly calmly, completely trusting the stranger holding him to keep him safe.

“He shall wipe every tear from their eyes,” Father Byle continued tearfully. “And there shall be no more death or mourning, crying out or pain, for the former world has passed away.”

“You’re going to be alright,” Jack found himself promising the boy, his hand rising up to cradle the back of his head even as he struggled to hold on. “I’m going to keep you safe.”

People all around them were falling now as the ship reached an impossibly steep incline, sliding down the wooden deck as though it were a helter-skelter at the seaside or a fair.

They were the lucky ones, Jack soon realised, as he watched some others collide with some of the many protrusions from the deck or, even worse, other passengers which sent them falling towards the rising water as well, their hopes of surviving lost by a cruel twist of fate.

Others were jumping voluntarily, climbing over the rail and dropping down into the sea.

It was such a vast distance that he doubted any of them would survive the fall itself.

The baker who had helped the boy’s mother earlier climbed over the rail right beside them but hesitated, watching in horror as the man who had jumped just before him struck one of the ships impossibly large propellers with a sickening thud and spun wildly towards the sea.

As Jack watched a hip flask was produced from his pocket.

He couldn’t blame him.

Beside him the mothers bad ankle gave out, almost sending her and Tommy plummeting to their deaths but luckily they held on and with Jack’s help were able to regain their footing.

“Hold on real tight!”

A moment later and the lights finally went out, lunging them into darkness.

Jack would never deny that he cried out in fear along with everyone else as they were suddenly left with only the light from the moon and the stars in the night sky to see by.

As though silenced by the loss of light people’s screams faded, allowing them to hear the ship groaning beneath their feet. Jack felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the frigid temperature pass down his spine as the noise from the ship began to increase and change.

Metal began to grind loudly together.

Wood began to splinter and snap.

Glass began to break and shatter.

And then suddenly they were falling, the stern half of the ship plummeting back down towards the sea and the poor souls who had jumped into the water to try and escape.

It felt as though his stomach had been pushed up through his body and into his throat, similar to the feeling he got whenever he missed a step going down a flight of stair and dropped further than he had though he was going to. Only this felt worse; much worse.

And all around him people screamed.

A single unanimous cry of pure and utter terror.

They hit the water with a terrible jolt, one that was the final straw for the remaining funnels which proceeded to topple like a child’s toy, one that knocked the wind out of Jack’s lungs.

For a moment afterwards it seemed as though they had been spared.

Jack, unfortunately, knew better.

The ship had been split in half; this meant that there was now nothing to stop the water getting into the stern half of the ship so it was only a matter of time before it began to sink.

Unfortunately, mere seconds later, his fears were proved correct.

It was as though the front half of the ship was pulling the stern half down, causing it to rise back up into the air significantly faster than it had risen before. More and more passengers lost their grip and were lost to the sea below them, often after a painful journey downward.

“What should we do?”

Jack met Tommy’s frantic eyes as the stern passed the point where it had been before and showed no sign of stopping, warning them all that they had seconds left to save themselves.

A brief glance downwards brought him the shocking sight of people piled up on top of the forward rail, more bodies tumbling down to join them with sickening thuds and sharp cries.

They didn’t stand a chance if they ended up down there…

A glance upwards and he spotted the baker still clutching to the other side of the railings.

An idea burned its way through his mind.

“We have to move!”

Even as he shouted at his friends he was moving, using the flagpole to haul himself and the boy over the railings until he was resting on the other side. Tommy nodded, bracing himself so that the young mother could use his body as a step in order to pull herself over before he set about pulling himself onto the railings. On the other side of the flagpole Fabrizio had just managed to get himself over the railing by the time they became horizontal, the deck having by then become perfectly vertical. He was clutching at Helga’s hands she hung from the cold bars, pleading with her to let him help her over to the other side but she was too frightened.

Beside him the young mother gasped out sharply in fear,

“What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” Jack all but whimpered in response. “I don’t know.”

And then the ship stopping moving.

“Please, _amore_, hold on,” Fabrizio pleaded with Helga even as her mother lost her grip and plunged down towards the sea, striking a bench on the way. Moments later her father lost his grip and followed almost exactly the same path as his wife, knocking a couple of other passengers loose as he fell to his death. Helga began to pant loudly in terror. “Helga, plea…”

They could do nothing but watch as her fingers slipped from Fabrizio’s grasp, the Italian letting out a scream like nothing Jack had ever heard before as he watched her drop away.

_“Helga!” _

People were screaming desperately for someone, _anyone, _to help them.

But no help came.

For a long moment nothing happened, the ship hung in the air like a cork floating on the surface of the water, and then with only the slightest shudders it began to sink once more.

It was as though there were a great sea monster churning up the waters below them, causing it to boil and bubble as the ship slipped downwards, almost completely vertical.

Jack felt himself climb to his feet on the railings, hear himself call out confidently,

“This is it!”

He had made no conscious decision to do either action but as his friends rose to their feet beside him he was glad that his subconscious had taken over, giving them time to prepare for what was about to come. Beside him the young mother was praying frantically under her breath, one of her hand reaching out to take that of her son whilst the other cradled the back of her baby’s head. Perhaps it was a mercy that the infant had somehow fallen asleep.

As more and more of the ship disappeared into the water so did more people, some swept away as the point that they’d been holding onto plunged under the surface, others falling uncontrollably into the frothing vortex. Others, somehow, seemed to be flung away from the ship by bursts of air or water, sending their bodies spinning wildly into the night sky.

Fabrizio’s voice joined the young mothers in tearful prayer.

Tommy, on the other hand, was simply swearing over and over again.

“The ship is gonna suck us down,” Jack found himself announcing as clearly as he could, his eyes fixated on the riding water. Reaching out blindly he pulled the mothers hand away from her sons, taking hold of it himself as she turned her tearful gaze towards him. “Take a deep breath when I say. Kick for the surface and keep kicking. Do not let go of my hand.”

She nodded and in that moment Jack couldn’t help but think of Rose.

He didn’t know if he’d have been able to remain as calm if it had been her stood beside him, clutching his hand as they faced down almost certain death side by side. As it stood it was only the knowledge that she was safe, floating in a lifeboat somewhere no doubt watching in horror as the horrific scene played out before her like some Greek tragedy in a theatre.

Perhaps that was why when he uttered his final words before the water reached them they weren’t for the woman standing close to his side but for the woman he loved so very much.

“We're gonna make it, Rose. Trust me.”

And then, as the water swallow them whole, he could have sworn he heard Roses’ voice,

“I trust you!”

~ * ~


	4. Chapter Three

** A NIGHT TO REMEMBER  
** **CHAPTER THREE**

Jack had thought he was prepared for what was to come.

He’d fallen into a lake covered with ice as a child. It was one of the strongest memories he had of his father, mostly of his father jumping in to pull him out of the water but he’d never forgotten the way his breath had been stolen from him as soon as he’d entered the water.

Nor had he forgotten the fact that it had felt like he was rolling around in broken glass.

And yet the moment his body had been sucked under the water he had realised he’d been wrong; nothing could have prepared him for what his body went through in those moments.

When he’d fallen into the lake he had bobbed back up to the surface straight away.

Now, though, the suction from the sinking ship was pulling him down…down…down…

He kicked frantically, fighting against the strong current until finally with a couple of twists his body was free and he was kicking towards what he hope was the surface of the water.

It was in those frantic moments that he lost his grip on the mother’s hand.

He felt around for as long as he could but when his lungs began to protest he knew he had to get to the surface for the boy strapped to his chest would be faring much worse than him.

When he finally broke the surface he couldn’t stop himself gasping loudly as his body had been wanting him to since entering the water, the frigid air causing him to cough loudly.

It was a struggle to breath for a long moment but he ignored it, allowing his lungs to take short and sharp breathes as he focused his attention on the little boy strapped to his chest.

“Hey! Hey!” he choked out, shaking the boy until with a loud cough of his own he opened his eyes. Relief flooded through him even as his heart continued to race. “Oh, thank God.”

It was then that the little boy spoke for the first time, teeth chattering violently as he asked,

“Where’s my mummy?”

“I don’t know,” Jack choked out, twisting his head around so that he could study the faces of the terrified people struggling to stay afloat all around them. There were hundreds of them, no, there must be over a thousand, and yet none of those closest to him was the woman he was looking for. His heart, already thudding painfully, gave a terrible lurch. “I don’t know…”

“Jack!”

Turning his body round as quickly as could to face the direction the familiar voice had come from Jack was relieved to see Fabrizio paddling towards him as quickly as he could, his skin so pale it could have been translucent; a far cry from the healthy tan he usually sported. It made him wonder what his own lightly tanned skin looked like under the circumstances.

“Fabrizio!”

They embraced as best they could with both of them trying to stay afloat, particularly Fabrizio who wasn’t wearing a lifebelt as so was having to kick much harder than Jack.

“Come on!” Fabrizio gasped out as they parted, pulling on Jacks arm. “This way!”

Jack knew better than to waist energy questioning why Fabrizio wanted him to move, simply grabbed hold of his friends arm so that the Italian could guide him as he swam on his back so that the boys head was kept out of the water. It was hard work, not only because of the position he’d adopted but because their course was by no means direct due to the other passengers splashing desperately in the water, and within a couple of minutes his limbs had begun to feel heavy, each movement taking twice as much effort as it realistically should do.

“Tommy!” Fabrizio called out suddenly through his chattering teeth. “I found him!”

Tommy, it turned out, had been protecting what appeared to be part of a door.

It was definitely from the First Class section, given the thickness of the door and the intricate carvings that covered the perfectly lacquered wood, and was big enough for someone to rest on out of the water. Possibly even two people if they were careful.

“What about the mother?”

“I lost her,” Jack confessed, grief stabbing through him. “She’s gone.”

“Right, then this is for you,” Tommy announced firmly, shoving a frantic young man away from the door when he tried to climb aboard it. Jack opened his mouth to protest but his friend cut him off with a simple statement. “That little boy won’t last long in the water.”

He was right, Jack realised, as he glanced down to find the boys lips turning blue.

His only chance was to get out of the water.

Quickly.

And given that the boy was still securely strapped to his chest in such a manner that they’d never be able to release him in time so that meant Jack had to get out of the water too..

“Okay,” he muttered. “Can you steady it for me?”

Both of his friends nodding, moving to either end of the door whilst Jack took up a position at the nearest side. It took him far longer than he would have liked to pull himself onto the piece of wood, his hands losing their grip a couple of times, his legs refusing to kick enough.

But, eventually, he succeeded and rolled onto his back so that the boy was laying on him.

“If we squeeze we might get you on as well…”

The door was big enough if they all sat or lay pretty much on top of each other but when Fabrizio tried to pull himself up the door tipped so alarmingly that the little boy let out a shrill scream of panic, prompting the Italian to drop back into the water with an apology.

“It’s fine,” Fabrizio murmured as he and Tommy moved to the end of the door where Jacks head was resting, holding onto the board to stay afloat. “It’s fine. We’ll stay in the water.”

Jack shook his head weakly, every action feeling like an impossible effort,

“You can’t. It’s too c-c-cold.”

“Well be fine,” Tommy all but growled out, reaching out to rub his hand up and down the little boys leg once he had moved it further away from the water. “They’ll have to send a boat back soon. We can wait. You just worry about keeping the boy warm as you can...”

Working together they rubbed their hands up and down the boys exposed limbs, causing him to whimper loudly but at least the noise was a confirmation that he was still alive. It wasn’t long, however, before Tommy and Fabrizio had to stop and focusing solely on holding onto the door; the cold had seeped into them so much that their legs had stopped working and we’re now just hanging uselessly in the water. Not that they admitted this.

Around them people cried out in fear, pleading with the boats to come back, to help them.

Others were praying loudly, their voices filled with despair, agony and even resentment.

Some were cursing, their language as foul as any Jack had heard, whilst others seemed to be crying out in surprise, as though they couldn’t believe that they were really in the water.

It was a cacophony of human emotion, one that would haunt his darkest dreams should he manage to survive, and Jack couldn’t help but think of those passengers who were sitting safely in the lifeboats listening to the voices crying out, couldn’t help but think of Rose and the crushing guilt that must be weighing down upon her and all of the others in the boats.

One officer whose face Jack vaguely recognised pulled out a whistle, using it to issue a high piercing sound for as long as he could before following it with a cry to send back the boats.

No boats came.

One by one, though, the voices dropped off.

First it was those who hadn’t managed to get hold of a lifebelt, their limbs suffering just as Tommy and Fabrizio’s were only they didn’t have anything to cling not to keep themselves afloat and simply slipped under the water. It was heart-breaking to witness as there was nothing any of them could do to help, incapacitated as they were by their circumstances.

Next it was the people who had jumped earliest, the cold having had longer to incapacitate them. They simply stopped, kept afloat by their life let’s or the debris they were frozen to.

Only the strongest amongst them remained after what felt like an eternity but was in fact only twenty minutes, a thick layer of ice forming rapidly over everything out of the water.

Everything but the little boys arms and legs which Jack kept rubbing and his own hands.

It wasn’t easy to keep his limbs moving but he persevered, determined, and it must have been doing some good as despite the ice in his hair the little boy was still whimpering.

He was still alive when so many others were not.

It took Jack a painfully long time to realise that his dearest friend had stopped breathing.

A sob worked itself out of his throat as he placed his hand on the back of Fabrizio’s head, feeling none of the usual warmth. The handsome young Italian had rested his head on his folded arms and could have been sleeping were it not for the deathly white pallor his skin had taken on and the fact that ice had completely covered both his nose and mouth.

“Fabrizio…”

Tommy turned his head slowly to look, grimacing as he realised what had happened.

The only comfort that Jack could take was the fact that his friend would be reunited with the girl he had loved and lost less than an hour earlier and wouldn’t be forced to live with the guilt of letting her fall. It didn’t stop the painful thudding of his heart nor his dry sobs.

He’d lost the ability to weep by then.

The last few voices were fading away around them and even the whistle had been silenced.

“They’re n-not c-c-coming back, a-a-are they?”

Tommy voice sounded so weak, so broken as he gazed up at Jack with fear in his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Jack responded, voice little more than a whisper. “But we have to hold on…”

“I d-don’t know if I c-c-can…”

“You can,” Jack choked out, moving to grip one of Tommy hands. “You _have_ to…”

Time seemed to fade away after that.

Tommy fought against his bodies desire to give up, pulling himself further up onto the door so that he could run his fingers through the boys hair, dislodging some of the ice that had formed in the strands. It was a difficult struggle just to keep his eyes from closing forever.

Jack, meanwhile, had found himself compelled to offer the boy what comfort he could.

His voice was weak, weaker than he’d ever heard it, and the words weren’t quite right but he managed to sing his way through ‘_Come, Josephine, In My Flying Machine_’ which only brought more thoughts of Rose to the forefront of his mind, given that they had sung this song as he’d escorted her back after her exciting and inappropriate evening in Third Class.

It was then, as he trying to think of something else to sing to the boy, that he heard it.

A voice, strong and powerful,

“Is anyone alive out there?”

He gasped, rolling his head to the side just in time to see a beam of light in the distance.

“Can anyone hear me?”

“Tommy!” he gasped, his voice little more than a croak. “Tommy, they’ve come back!”

Tommy groaned, blinking sluggishly towards the approaching lights.

“Wha…?”

“Is there anyone alive out there?”

Lifting his head up off of the door, the ice that had formed between him and and wood snapping unpleasantly beneath him, Jack took as deep a breath as he could manage and attempted to call out to them only to find to his horror that he couldn’t get anything out.

“No…” he gasped with mounting horror. They were so close. “Please…”

“We’ll keep checking them!” the strong voice called out resolutely after a pause, a thick accent appearing. The beam of light passed directly over Jack and the boy. “Keep looking!”

Tommy tried to shout out only to find himself in the same predicament as Jack; the cold had robbed them of their voices so all they could muster were dry whispers and soft whimpers.

“Is there anyone alive out there? Can anyone hear me?”

“Yes!” Jack croaked out desperately, as loud as he could. “We’re here! _Please_!”

He couldn’t believe this was happening, not now, not after everything…

The boat was less than twenty feet away from them but they couldn’t make themselves loud enough to be heard, couldn’t move their limbs well enough to draw their attention.

“Come back!” Jack found himself croaking out desperately as the lifeboat turned away from them, moving on through the sea of frozen bodies floating in the water. “No! _Come back!”_

“Hello!” the voice called out, still just as loud but with an air of defeat creeping into it as they were faced with the prospect that there was no one left alive. “Can anyone hear me?”

“Come back!” Jack repeated, his throat aching from the strain. “_Come back_!”

Tommy gasped suddenly.

“Th’ whi’hel…” he grunted, his eyes suddenly blazing to life with a mixture of frustration at his inability to form words properly due to the cold and pure determination. “_Th’ whi’hel!” _

Jack frowned.

He couldn’t…

He couldn’t understand what his friend was saying…

And then for the first time since they’d gotten Jack and the boy onto the door Tommy was moving, pushing off into the freezing cold water and paddling pathetically slowly towards…

A gasp tore itself from Jacks lips.

The whistle!

That’s what Tommy had been trying to say, that’s what Tommy was struggling to reach.

Jack could only watch as his friend battled his way over to the corpse floating with the whistle still between its lips, eventually making it to the deck chair the officer was still clutching hold of even in death. A moment passed between Tommy bringing the metal whistle to his lips and the first noise emanating weakly from it. The next whistle was as powerful as it could possibly be, Tommy putting everything he had into calling for help.

A long moment passed, filled with the shrill noise of the whistle, and then…

“Come about!”

They’d heard him.

They were coming back for them!

A laugh burst out of Jack, his hands moving to cradle the back of the boys head.

He was warm beneath the layer of ice covering his hair, nowhere near warm enough to be healthy but definitely warm enough to prove he was still alive and breathing. They’d done it!

The beam of light passed over him once more and this time Jack found the energy to raise his arm into the air, waving it about weakly until he heard the strong voice announce,

“I see him!” the voice cried out with obvious relief, the light remaining fixed on Jack even as the boat slowly turned amidst the ocean of bodies to face towards him. “Come on men!”

Jacks arm dropped down, his energy spent, and he looked across at Tommy.

His friend had fallen silent, the whistle still between his lips, and he offered Jack a sad smile before his hand seemed to spasm and he lost his grip on the dead officer’s shoulder. A cry of alarm escaped Jack as Tommy bobbed once, twice, and then disappeared below the surface.

“No!”

They were so close…_so close…_

Tommy couldn’t…he couldn’t die now, not now that help was finally coming…

“Tommy, please…”

But he never surfaced.

He’d used up the last of his energy making it across to call for help.

He had sacrificed himself to save Jack and the boy, knowing even before he’d let go of the door that it would be the last thing he would ever do, that he wouldn’t be able to hold on.

“Tommy…”

Jack was still staring at the point where he’d last seen his friend when the boat reached him.

“Hold water! _Hold water!_ We don’t want to hit him!”

A slight wave caused the door to shift beneath him and the boy let out an alarmed noise.

“Is that…?” another voice gasped suddenly. “Sir! He’s got a child with him!”

“Get them aboard!” the first voice responded, deeply alarmed. “_Quickly!”_

Hands reached out to steady the door once the boat had reached it, holding it in place whilst two more pairs of hands took hold of Jacks arms and pulled him up into the boat.

“Blankets! Quickly!”

“He’s got the boy tied to his body under the lifebelt…” a voice near his ear murmured as Jack suddenly found himself wrapped up in a thick blanket. “Should we leave them, Sir?”

“Yes, they’ve been sharing body heat,” the first voice, the youngest despite obviously being the only officer, responded quickly as another blanket was wound around Jack and the boy from the front, creating a sort of cocoon around them both. “Check the other man, there.”

“He’s dead, Sir.”

Fabrizio, Jack suddenly realised, they were talking about Fabrizio.

A whimper escaped him.

“I’m sorry,” another voice murmured in his ear, hands rubbing up and down his back which felt rather strange given the lifebelt he was wearing. “We came back as soon as we could.”

Jack allowed them to comfort him, unable to respond.

They continued their search and three more men were pulled into the lifeboat barely clinging to life, one passing away less than an hour later and so his body was carefully returned to the sea. Everyone else, thousands of men, women and children, were dead.

Eventually the young officer let out a regretful sigh and ordered his men to bring their oars across the boat, ending the search after over an hour of moving carefully amidst the bodies.

After that there was nothing to do but wait.

It was another hour or so later when a loud cheer startled them all, coming from some of the other lifeboats, and they searched the horizon to find what had brought about such a reaction from their fellow survivors. Lights. There were lights approaching them slowly.

“Someone received our distress signal,” the officer sighed, relief heavy in his tired voice. He’d obviously been worried that no one would come. “They’ll have to go slow until dawn, her Captain won’t want to risk running into any ice given what happened to the _Titanic_...”

A mournful hush fell over the occupants of the lifeboat.

Jack jumped when a small hand touched him on the cheek, drawing his attention to the little boy who whilst still dreadfully pale and rather sleepy didn’t seem to be suffering too badly.

A frown settled across the boys forehead as he enquired softly,

“…did you find my mummy?”

All eyes fell to the little boy as Jack swallowed loudly, pain lancing through him yet again.

“No, sweetheart, I didn’t,” he murmured, running his fingers through the boys hair. It was a little damp now, the layer of ice having thawed out in their cocoon of blankets. “I’m sorry.”

A single tear fell down the boys cheek before he pressed his face against Jacks neck.

“What’s his name?”

“I’ve got no idea,” Jack admitted softly, turning to offer the sailor who had spoken a sad smile. “His mother asked us to help her. She couldn’t find her husband or her daughter.”

“Oh…”

“She had a baby…” Jack all but whimpered, tears welling up in his eyes now that he too had thawed out a little bit. “I lost her when we went into the water. I couldn’t hold onto her…”

“Poor little chap,” one of the other men sighed deeply. “He’s lost everyone.”

Jack nodded, pressing a soft kiss to the top of the boys head.

“…how did you come up with the idea to strap him to you?”

“We strapped the baby to its mother so she could have her hands free,” Jack found himself explaining softly, his voice still somewhat hoarse. “Seemed a good idea to do the same with him. He’d never have survived what we just went through on his own so I’m glad we did.”

“You keep saying we…”

“Me, Tommy and Fabrizio,” Jack murmured, tears finally spilling over and burning a path down his cheeks. “Fabrizio was the…the other man on the door. He…he’d been dead for a while before you found us but Tommy…Tommy was the one who blew the whistle…”

“_What_? Did we miss him?”

Their panic and regret was oddly comforting.

“No,” Jack mumbled, more tears dripping down his face. “He…he didn’t have a lifebelt on. This was his; he gave it to me to keep the boy safe. I don’t know how he found the strength to swim to the officer who had the whistle but he did. And he blew until you called out but then he just smiled across at me and just slipped under the water. He never came back up.”

One of the men reached out to give his hand a comforting squeeze.

They watched the lights of the ship approaching them until the sun finally appeared over the horizon, illuminating the ghastly sight surrounding them. Jack couldn’t blame a few of the sailors for throwing up what little was left in their stomachs as they were finally able to see the mass of bodies floating around them, just as they would never blame him for the tears he was unable to hold back when he saw the first survivors from another lifeboat being helped aboard by their saviours; the _Carpathia_ and her horrified crew and passengers.

“Alright, men, let’s make our way over to her,” the officer murmured, standing up to take his place at the tiller. His youth was painfully evident in the light of the new day and yet he had been the only one to bring his boat back for them. “Oars in the water. Carefully now.”

Jack shifted forwards slightly to get out of the way of one sailor, moving carefully so as not to wake the little boy sleeping with his face still tucked firmly into Jacks neck, his warm breath ghosting reassuringly across his skin. Both of them were still wrapped tightly in the blankets they’d been given and Jack couldn’t stand the thought of taking them off just yet.

“Stand by. Give way, together!”

Obeying the Strange command the sailors got to work, manipulating the oars slowly but steadily as the young officer navigated them out of the field of bodies, taking great care regarding the route he took so as to avoid hitting too many of them. Sadly some of them were unavoidable and Jack saw him apologise to each and every one of them until they finally emerged from the grisly sight and were able to head straight for the _Carpathia. _

~ * ~

**A/N** I’m sorry! I couldn’t save Tommy and Fabrizio no matter how hard I tried to work it into the plan for my story. I hope I did the characters justice, though, with their new endings.


	5. Chapter Four

** A NIGHT TO REMEMBER  
** **CHAPTER FOUR **

In the end their lifeboat, Boat 14, ended up being one of the last to reach the _Carpathia_ in spite of the fact that once they were well clear of the field of bodies the young officer who was in charge of their boat ordered the crewmen to rig the lifeboats sail. Jack had moved at the officers instruction to sit on the other side of the tiller out of the way whilst everyone else in the boat was put to work properly stowing the oars, putting up the boats mast, securing the stays, unfurling the sail and then finally rigging it to the mast so that it would catch the wind. They had begun to move surprisingly quickly after that but had detoured en route to the _Carpathia_ not once but twice; firstly to offer assistance to Collapsible D, which they took in tow, and then to the swamped Collapsible A which was in danger of sinking before those on board her could be rescued, from which they offloaded twenty men and one woman. It was the additional weight of the extra passengers and the boat on tow that slowed them down in the end and, when the wind died off, made rowing the last stretch rather difficult.

By the time they finally approached their rescuers most of the other boats that had arrived before them had been hauled aboard the _Carpathia_ but theirs was to be set adrift as there was barely enough room on the ships deck for the boats that had already been recovered.

They approached the hatch which had been opened up to admit them and the survivors of the other boats that weren’t going to be recovered and Jack frowned up at the rope ladder which had been lowered for them to use; under normal circumstances he’d have had no problem scrambling up the wooden slats suspended between the thick lengths of rope but with the boy still strapped to his chest it would be difficult, not to mention the fact that his limbs were painfully stiff after being in the water and then being sat in a boat for six hours.

The first of the passengers began to ascend up the ladder, hands reaching out at the top to help haul them aboard the _Carpathia_, but Jack hung back with the men manning the boat.

All too soon he was the only passenger left and rose slowly to his feet, grimacing as pain lanced down his stiff legs, and he stumbled across to the base of the ladder. Curling his fingers around the rope he braced himself for the pain that was about to come and lifted his right foot onto the bottom rung of the ladder. It was too much and, with a sharp hiss, he stumbled back and would have fallen were it not for one of the crewmen who caught him.

“Sir, he’s never going to make it up the ladder.”

“Agreed,” Fifth Officer Lowe, as Jack had learned sometime during the night was the name of the young officer who had saved his life, muttered before looking up at the faces peering down at them. “You, there! We need a sling for this passenger! He cannot climb the ladder!”

“Aye, aye, Sir!”

Jack watch, relieved, as something akin to a child’s swing was lowered down from the hatch.

He was helped onto the seat, sitting with his back to the ship’s hull, and was instructed to hold onto the ropes as it was hauled upwards so that he didn’t slip and fall. Nodding he wrapped his hands as tightly as he could manage around the ropes and braced himself, flinching only slightly as the sling suddenly shot upwards a couple of feet as those on the other end of the rope got to work. It was slow going, sometimes he was only raised by a couple of inches, and Jack found himself gazing out at the horrifying expanse before him.

The sheer number of bodies was impossible to comprehend, as were the icebergs he could see all around them; had they been there the entire time and he just hadn’t noticed them?

Finally he felt hands hook under his arms as he was hauled up the last little bit and then his feet were firmly planted on the deck of the _Carpathia_, some of its crewmen keeping a hold of him until he was perfectly steady. They were openly shocked at the sight of the boy still strapped to his body under the lifebelt and a young nurse hurried across to check on them.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No,” Jack responded, allowing her to pull him out of the way of the crewmen who were now climbing up the rope ladder having set their boat adrift as ordered. “Just stiff and cold.”

“Were you in the water?”

He nodded in reply, his hand coming up to cradle the boys head.

“You need to get warm. There are more blankets available and hot drinks,” the young nurse ordered him sharply. “I’ll come and check on you once everyone has been brought aboard.”

Nodding once more Jack allowed himself to be steered through the ships corridors, barely noticing the horrified looks that the _Carpathia’s_ passengers were shooting his way, and out onto the well deck where a large crowd of bedraggled women were waiting anxiously. He looked for Rose and her flaming red hair but found no sign of her; either she hadn’t been brought aboard yet or she was with the other First Class survivors as everyone down here seemed to be Second or Third Class. Someone, he didn’t see who, wrapped another blanket around his shoulders and a mug was pressed into his free hand. It was a simple broth, more watery than he would have liked normally, but in that moment it was the finest thing he’d ever tasted simply because it was so warm it made his tongue tingle. After taking a few sips himself he stopped walking so that he could focus on getting the boy to drink some of it.

He made a face, not liking the taste of the meaty broth, but offered no protest when Jack forced him to drink more. All too soon the mug was empty, shared between them with the boy taking the lions share without him realising it, and Jack handed the mug over to one of the stewards moving through the crowd of distraught survivors. Spotting a space on one of the benches near one of the ships lookout masts he made his way across to it and, once he was seated, carefully unwrapped the blankets from him and the boy so that he could set about removing the lifebelt. It wasn’t easy going, the knots tight and his fingers still numb.

“Can I help you with that, sir?”

The voice startled him and he looked up to find a painfully young steward standing in front of him. He nodded, moving his hands out of the way so that the steward’s nimble fingers could be to work undoing the simple knots his friends had used and then holding still as the life belts was lifted up over his head. A noise of surprise escaped the steward when he saw that the boy was bound to him with a length of rope but he recovered quickly, setting to work on the next collection of twists and knots. These proved all the more difficult as the water had caused the rope to swell and then the ice had made it even worse. In the end the steward was forced to fetch a member of the crew who possessed a pocket knife to cut the rope in several places, finally freeing the boy from Jacks body although he didn’t move at all once he was free, burrowing his face into Jacks neck and clutching at his rescuers shoulders.

“It’s okay,” Jack murmured in his ear. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

Out of the corner of his eyes he caught sight of the steward picking up the lifebelt and the lengths of rope and before he realised what he was doing he’d reached out to snatch them away from him, clutching them so tightly that his fingers began to throb. In response the steward held up his hands in the universal sign for surrender as he backed away from him.

It wasn’t until he eventually managed to calm the boy down enough that he realised why he’d reacted the way he had when he decided to use Tommy lifebelt as a pillow for the boy.

Tommy; the lifebelt had belonged to his friend.

And the ropes, more importantly the knots that were still present, had been tied by Fabrizio.

These inane objects were all he had left of his friends.

“Can I take your name, sir?”

It was an officer that approached him this time, older than the steward had been but no older than Jack himself, one who was armed with a clipboard, a pencil and a pained look.

“Jack,” he responded, clearing his throat when his voice caught. “Jack Dawson.”

“And were you travelling First, Second or Third Class?”

“Third,” Jack answered before blurting out, “You won’t find me on the passenger list, though, as my friend and I won our tickets in a poker match the day the ship sailed.”

To say the officer looked stunned by this piece of information was an understatement.

“What was your friend’s name?” the officer eventually asked as he made a note of Jacks explanation on the piece of paper on his clipboard. “And did he survive the…uh…sinking?”

“Fabrizio De Rossi,” Jack answered softly, his eyes watering as he looked over the officers shoulder towards the water. “And no, he didn’t. He’s…he’s still out there somewhere…”

“I’m sorry,” the officer offered sincerely after he’d written Fabrizio’s name down on his list, adding a notation that he wouldn’t be on the passenger list and hadn’t survived. “Do you happened to know the names that were on your tickets? And I’ll need your sons name too.”

“Sven, Sven Gunderson,” Jack blurted out, the name from the boarding pass he’d won in the poker match popping inexplicably into his mind. “And Olaf Gunderson. They were Swedish?”

He paused, frowning to himself.

“At least I think they were Swedish...”

The officer nodded, adding the names to his previous notes.

“And your son? What’s his name?”

“He’s not my son,” Jack sighed deeply, smoothing the boys hair back off of his forehead as he explained what had happened. “His mother approached my friends and I after most of the lifeboats had already been launched. She’d lost her husband and daughter in the chaos so we agreed to help her. I never…I never learned her name. She had a baby with her too.”

Tears of guilt, of grief pooled in his eyes as the officer stared down at him in shock.

“I was holding her hand when the ship sank out from underneath us but…but I lost her…”

Jack found himself sobbing uncontrollably before he knew what was happening, his own shock finally wearing off, all of the emotions he’d been fighting back flooding through him.

He didn’t see the officer beckon the young nurse from earlier over.

He didn’t hear him murmur in her ear, explaining to her what Jack had just told him.

In fact he only became aware of her after she’d disappeared and returned with another steaming mug, this one filled with sweet tea which he drank when she ordered him to.

“Do you mind if I have a look in the boys locket?”

“…locket?” he repeated with a frown. “What locket?”

She crouched down in front of the boy and pulled on a chain around his neck, dislodging a locket that had been tucked inside the boys shirt out of sight. The chain was far too big for him so Jack could only assume that the locket had actually belonged to his poor mother.

“Oh…”

Using her thumb nail she popped it open, revealing two water damaged photos.

“Is that his mother?”

Jack peered closely at the small image, his heart lurching painfully as he nodded.

She looked even younger in the photo than he remembered her brain.

“Right, well if none of the other survivors can identify him we’ll have to put the pictures in the papers along with one of him to see if anyone comes forward,” the nurse announced logically, her voice calm and soothing. “For now we’ll take down his description; light brown hair, blue eyes, approximately two years old, wearing a good quality child’s tweed suit.”

The officer nodded his head, frantically jotting the details down as she listed them.

“Are you happy to look after him until we find out if he has any surviving family?” the nurse enquired, choosing her words carefully. “It might take some time, sadly, so if not we can…”

“I promised his mother I’d look after him and I will,” Jack interrupted her firmly, almost defensively as he took the locket from her hands and looked down at the photographs. “Until you find out if he’s got any family to look after him he’ll stay with me and Rose.”

He uttered the words before he’d even thought them through.

“Rose? Is she your wife?”

“Not yet,” Jack murmured, snapping his head up and craning his neck to look around at his fellow survivors. “But I damn well intend to ask her just as soon…just as soon as I find her…”

“…she was aboard the _Titanic_?”

“Yes,” Jack confirmed, understanding the hesitancy in her voice. “I put her into a lifeboat.”

He could clearly see the relief in her eyes when he told her that.

“Do you know which one?”

“No.”

“What’s her surname?” the officer asked, holding up his clipboard. “I can look for you…”

“Dewitt something or other,” Jack responded, frowning deeply in frustration when he couldn’t remember the last part of her fancy surname. How come his mind could supply the names of the men he had beaten at poker but not that of the woman he loved? “Bu…Bu…?”

“Bukater?”

Jacks eyes snapped up to stare at the back of the clipboard that the officer was looking at, several pieces of paper curling over the top after having been checked for the correct name.

“Rose Dewitt Bukater of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania?”

A noise that was as close to an affirmative as he could get in that moment escaped his lips, prompting the officer to look up from his list, a confused smile on his face as he explained,

“She’s with the other First Class survivors.”

No doubt he was wondering how Jack, a Third Class passenger, could possibly know Rose well enough to be planning to ask her to marry him. Jack didn’t care what they thought of him, launching himself to his feet with as broad a smile as he could possibly fit on his face.

“Where?” he all but demanded. “Where is she? _Please! _I need…”

“I think it would be best if I bring her to you, sir.”

Jack bristled but didn’t argue, so desperate to be reunited with the woman he loved that he would ignore the insinuation that he wouldn’t be welcome wherever they had put the First Class survivors due to the fact that he himself was quite obviously a member of Third Class.

A hand on his arm encourage him to retake his seat beside the sleeping boy.

He’d dropped the mug of tea when he’d sprung to his feet, the precious liquid spilling all over the deck underneath his feet, so the young nurse disappeared for a moment to refill the cup. Jack had never been overly fond of tea, preferring a coffee or even better a nice beer, but in that moment he understood the appeal of the traditionally British beverage.

It soothed his nerves long enough for the officer to return and with him came…

_“Rose!”_

_“Jack!”_

He only just had time to jump to his feet before his arms were full of the woman he loved, the young nurse just having time to snatch the cup away from him this time, and then the world around them simply faded away as their lips met in a kiss filled with passion and joy.

His hands settled on her waist, holding her close to his chest whilst hers roamed all over his upper body as though she couldn’t believe that he was really there; given what it had taken for him to get there he couldn’t blame her. Tears flooded down both of their faces, tears of sadness mixed with tears of pure and utter elation as they experienced something that had been denied to so many of the people around them; a reunion with the person they loved.

The couple were so lost in each other that they failed to notice the figures that had followed Rose down the narrow staircase from the promenade and were now stood watching them as they kissed; Cal, his face twisted with anger and jealousy, and her mother, Ruth, who’s expression was much more difficult to interpret as she was desperately trying to keep her composure. She was relieved that both she and her daughter had survived the disaster but she was disappointed that Rose had chosen the penniless artist over the future millionaire.

Finally the need for air forced the couple to pull apart, resting their foreheads together as they gasped loudly into each other’s mouths. Jack brought his hands up to cradle Rose’s jaw whilst hers hooked around the back of his neck; neither of them wanted to let the other go.

“I thought I’d lost you…”

“Never,” Jack gasped against her lips. “I’m never letting go of you, Rose; never again.”

~ * ~


	6. Epilogue

** A NIGHT TO REMEMBER **   
**EPILOGUE**

Jack was sketching in the art studio he had built for him and Rose when they’d retired, his gnarled fingers protesting as they always did these days, but he didn’t care about the pain.

He’d dreamed last night about the sinking of the _Titanic_, specifically of the last moment he had seen Tommy, and he couldn’t stop until he’d gotten the memory down on paper whilst it was still clear in his mind. It had been some time since he’d last recalled his friends face so vividly, the passage of time eating away at his memories one by one. His sketches, some of which were so painful to look at that he’d never been able to show them to anyone whilst others had been displayed in galleries and museums, were all he could rely on these days.

“Can I get you anything, Grandpa?”

“No, dear,” he murmured, smiling across at his eldest granddaughter, Lizzy, who had moved in with him and Rose to care for them after their health had begun to decline. “Thank you.”

Tilting his face up as she approached he offered her a smile as she leaned down to kiss his weathered cheek before disappearing into the art studio where Rose was throwing a pot.

She had taken up the hobby after they’d retired, finding herself in need of a way to keep herself busy after living such a busy life at his side. In the beginning her efforts had been truly awful, one of the worst now adorned their mantel piece, but some of the bowls she had thrown recently and then painted were good enough to be given away as presents.

Finishing the sketch he leaned back in his chair, using a rag to wipe the worst of the charcoal from his fingers, and found himself gazing at the pictures hanging all over the wall opposite.

The oldest picture had been taken a week after the disaster and featured the young couple they had been with the little boy they had been caring for. It had been taken at the same time as the photograph that had been featured in newspapers in both England and America, along with copies of the water damaged photographs from the boy’s locket, in the hopes that someone would recognise one of them and finally after six weeks they had received a telegram from London, England. It had been sent by the boys paternal Aunt, identifying him as Herbert Pearson, and had asked them to care for him until they could get enough money together to afford their passage to America. Bertie, as they’d ended calling him, had been with them for four months in the end, long enough for them both to fall in love with him which had only made it all the harder to hand him over to his family when they had finally arrived in New York. Only the fact that his Aunt had promised to keep in touch with them had made the parting bearable and for the rest of Bertie’s life they had exchanged letters and cards, photographs and presents. Most precious had been the visits between the two families, both of which had grown over time and still continued even though Bertie had passed away suddenly at the age of sixty-five after suffering a heart attack whilst at work.

His death had been particularly difficult for Jack and, despite being unwell himself at the time, he’d insisted on travelling to England for the funeral so that he could say goodbye.

Their wedding photograph hung next to the photograph of them with Bertie.

She had looked so beautiful on their wedding day. It hadn’t mattered to either of them that her dress had been second hand because they couldn’t afford anything better, nor the fact that they hadn’t been able to afford anything more than the simplest ceremony available. It hadn’t mattered that her mother had refused to come to the wedding as had the rest of her so called “society friends”, nor that their reception was in their neighbours apartment with only their friends from the building and the friends that Rose had made at the department store where she’d found work. All that had mattered was that they’d become man and wife.

Next came the countless photographs and sketches of their children;

Edward, or Teddy as everyone had always called him, was the spitting image of his father right down to his charming smile which he had learned to use early on to charm everyone.

Margaret, who had been Maggie during her childhood but preferred to be known as Meg now that she was a grown woman, was a perfect blend of both of her parents in terms of looks and the only one of their five children to inherit Jack’s artistic abilities and use them.

Lillian, their little Lily, was every inch her mother’s daughter from her appearance to her spirited personality, refusing to conform to the social norms from the get go. She’d begun wearing her brother trousers when she was fifteen, had insisted on going to college even though none of her friends had wanted to go and had volunteered during World War Two.

Archibald and Charles, or Archie and Charlie, had come as something of a surprise ten years after Lily had been born. They were almost identical but not quite; Archie had a dozen or so more freckles than Charlie whilst his younger brother was almost an inch taller than Archie.

Along with the photographs of their children growing up there was one in particular that was particularly important to his beloved wife; the photograph Jack had taken when Rose had finally been able to reconnect with her mother shortly before her death. Ruth was in the centre of the picture, laid out elegantly on her hospital bed with Rose perched beside her and their five children posed on either side of the bed. She had come to regret turning her back on Rose, her only daughter, when her health had begun to fail and she’d realised that she had no one she could turn to for help, no one that would care for her in at the end.

Rose had welcomed her mother into their lives, taking the children to visit her whenever she could so that they could get to know her, and had finally managed to have a much needed discussion with Ruth about why she’d behaved the way she had whilst on board the _Titanic_.

It had done them both good to mend their relationship.

The family had been there when Ruth had finally succumbed to the illness which had left her bedridden for the last few months of her life, offering her comfort as she had passed.

In spite of their reunion none of them had been expecting Ruth to alter her will, or rather order than her lawyer revert to her original will rather than the one she’d drawn up after disowning Rose back in 1912. Rose had inherited everything; what little was left of their family fortune, her mother’s collection of jewellery and the family home in Philadelphia.

They hadn’t known what to do with the house to begin with.

Eventually, though, Teddy had made a passing comment whilst they were staying there to allow Rose to pack up her mother’s things that had been the inspiration of things to come;

“It’s like one of those fancy hotels back in New York, isn’t it?”

He’d been right, of course, and it hadn’t taken much to turn the family home into a hotel.

Getting out of New York had been a blessing, returning to her childhood home a challenge but worth it in the end, and within the first year they had made enough money through the hotel to allow them to purchase a second hotel. Unfortunately this addition had coincided with the _Wall Street Crash_ and the years of hardship that had followed, known as the _Great Depression._ They had scraped by, more or less by the skin of their teeth, but had been able to keep both hotels running smoothly and turning a profit, albeit a marginal one which had kept their entire family employed, fed and clothed and countless others employed as well.

Cal, the man to whom Rose had once been engaged had not been so lucky.

He’d lost everything during the _Wall Street Crash, _or so the papers had reported, and had been one of the many men to commit suicide because of it leaving his widow and children to fight over what little was left of their inheritance. Their squabbles had filled the papers for years and by the end of it Rose had openly pitied Cal for the family and life he’d had.

Jack was drawn from the memories stirred up by the photographs by the music program he’d had on the television in the background coming to an end and being replaced by the news, the first item of which appeared to be a live satellite feed from a ship far out at sea.

He frowned, waiting for the studio announcer to begin speaking when she appeared.

“Treasure hunter Brock Lovett is best known for finding Spanish gold. Now he has chartered Russian subs to reach the most famous shipwreck of all…” the heavily made-up announcer paused dramatically on her half of the screen before smiling at the camera. “…the _Titanic_.”

Jack set aside his sketchpad, placing it on the small table beside his chair.

“He is with us live via satellite from the research ship _Keldysh_ in the North Atlantic...”

Removing his glasses he used his handkerchief to clean the lenses, placing them back on his face as he leant forwards in his chair hoping to get a better look at the man on the screen.

“Hello, Brock?”

“Yes,” a man’s voice called out excitedly. “Hello, Tracy.”

Well, he certainly had the look of a treasure hunter about him…

“Everyone knows the familiar stories of _Titanic_,” the young man who was in desperate need of a haircut and a shave began what was obviously a pre-prepared speech, all but shouting in order to be heard over the noise of the wind. Jack refused to be impressed when the ship rocked unexpectedly, and the treasure hunter kept his footing effortlessly, smiling all the while. “The nobility, the band playing till the very end and all that. But what I'm interested in are the untold stories, the secrets locked deep inside the hull of _Titanic_. We're out here using robot technology to go further into the wreck than anybody's ever done before.”

“Your expedition is at the centre of a storm of controversy over salvage rights and even ethics,” the CNN reporter interrupted him gleefully. “Many are calling you a grave robber.”

Disgust churned within Jack’s stomach as the treasure hunter offer the camera a smile.

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor drew his gaze away from the television and across to where his wife was slowly making her way out of the studio, frowning deeply.

“Nobody called the recovery of artefacts of King Tut's tomb _grave robbing_…”

“What is it?”

Lizzy, who had been in the process of making their afternoon cup of tea, frowned worriedly.

“Turn that up, dear.”

Obeying her grandmother without hesitation the three of them then focused on the screen.

“I have museum-trained experts out here making sure that these relics are preserved and catalogued properly,” the confident man on the screen responded, nodding for the camera to focus on something beside him. “Take a look at this drawing that we found just today…”

Jack felt his eyes go wide in shock the moment the camera showed the item in question.

It was his drawing, the one he’d done of Rose wearing nothing but the _Heart of the Ocean_.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Judging by his gobsmacked wife’s expression she couldn’t either.

“A piece of paper that's been under water for eighty-four years and my team were able to preserve it intact,” Lovett continued, completely unaware of the multitude of feelings he had just brought about in the Dawson household; amazement, disbelief, and confusion to name a few. “Should this have remained unseen at the bottom of the ocean for eternity?”

Rose laughed shortly, turning to offer her husband an amused smile as she muttered,

“I'll be goddamned.”

“What? What is it, Grandma?”

“Lizzy, be a dear and find Mr Lovett’s phone number.”

Lizzy’s mouth dropped open in shock, her confusion mounting all the more as she watched her grandmother shuffle across with the aid of her walking stick to sit in her own favourite chair beside her husband. The two of them shared a look of wonder as they linked hands.

Sighing deeply the young woman picked up the house phone and, not knowing anywhere else to start, dialled the operator and asked to be given CNN’s number. From there she was directed through several desks at CNN before someone was finally able to give her the number she wanted, by which time it was well past her grandparents dinner time. Neither of them had offered a word of protest and when she had handed over the phone with the correct phone number scribbled on a piece of paper they had offered her twin smiles.

“Thank you, dear.”

She hovered beside them as her grandmother made the call to Mr Lovett.

“Hello? I’d like to speak to Mr Lovett. Yes, my name is Rose Dawson. My husband and I saw Mr Lovett’s news broadcast with the portrait of the young woman…” she paused, offering Jack a rather conspiratorial smile before continuing. “…and we were just wondering if Mr Lovett has found the _Heart of the Ocean _yet? Yes, yes, of course I’ll hold while you get him.”

“The _Heart of the Ocean_?” Lizzy repeated, even more confused. “Grandma? Grandpa?”

“The necklace in the portrait,” Jack explained. “That’s what they called it back then.”

“But how do you know that?”

Rose straightened up in her chair as a voice could be heard on the other end of the phone.

“This is Brock Lovett. How can I help you, Mrs…Dawson?”

Another smile, this one filled with even more mischief than before, appeared of Rose’s face.

“I was just wondering if you had found the _Heart of the Ocean_ yet, Mr. Lovett.”

Jack snorted, amused by her antics as he always had been.

“All right, you have my attention, Rose. Can you tell us who the woman in the picture is?”

“Oh, yes,” Rose replied with her brightest smile yet. “The woman in the picture is me.”

“Grandma!” Lizzy gasped, utterly scandalised by the fact that the picture of the naked woman had in fact been a portrait of her grandmother. Jack knew the moment the penny dropped, his granddaughters eyes snapping across to his sketchbook. “Grandpa! Did you…?”

“And my husband was the one he drew the sketch,” Rose announced, effectively answering their granddaughter whilst keeping her conversation with Brock Lovett going. “Didn’t you?”

“I did,” Jack agreed as clearly as he could so his voice would carry. “Good to see it again.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line and then, rather surprisingly,

“Mrs Dawson, how would you and your husband like to join us on the Keldysh? I’d love to sit down and talk with you about that night. And we’ve found plenty of other artefacts that–”

“We’d love to join you, Mr Lovett,” Rose interrupted him, arching a weathered eyebrow in Jack’s direction until he nodded his head in agreement. “Now, why don’t I pass you over to my granddaughter so that she can make all of the necessary arrangements for our journey?”

In spite of the fact that she'd obediently made the arrangements Lizzy didn’t want them to go and had tried enlisting her mother, their eldest daughter Meg, to convince them that it was a bad idea to travel by _helicopter_ to a ship in the _middle_ of the _Atlantic Ocean_ given that Jack was restricted to a wheelchair for anything more than a couple of paces and Rose had been having trouble with her hip, the one the doctors had refused to replace due to her age.

When that didn’t work all of their children had gotten involved, each of them pointing out another reason why they shouldn’t risk such a difficult journey. If Brock Lovett wanted to talk to them so much then surely he should be the one to make the trip to meet them.

They could understand their worry, truly they could but with only one look shared between them they had agreed and made their mind up; it was time for them to go back to _Titanic. _

They had something that didn’t belong to them that needed to be returned to the ship…

“Are you sure about this, Grandpa?” Lizzy checked for the hundredth time as they loaded Jacks wheelchair into the trunk of the car which had been sent to bring them to the airport. They had to catch a plane across the country to then take the helicopter out to the ship; it was the most travelling the elderly couple had done in quite some time and reminded them of the adventures they had had over the years. It hadn’t been easy to begin with, travelling without money as they had been then, but after the hotels had become a success they had managed to do everything on the list that they’d created whilst on the _Titanic_. “Grandma?”

“We’re sure, dear,” Rose informed her confidently. “Now, have you got everything?”

Lizzy, of course, was coming with them to look after them.

They didn’t mind.

Rose was a month off of her 101st birthday, something which still boggled Jacks mind as his most vivid memory was of the night they had met. Even harder to comprehend was the fact that he himself had only recently celebrated his 103rd birthday, making him the oldest living survivor of the _Titanic_ disaster currently residing in America. That was hard to comprehend.

They flew first class at Mr Lovett’s insistence which made the flight much more bearable.

Jack barely remembered the helicopter flight that had followed, sleeping through most of it.

And then, seemingly out of nowhere, they were there.

“Welcome to the _Keldysh_!” Brock Lovett greeted them overly warmly as they were helped out of the helicopter, Jack refusing his chair for the moment, instead opting for his walker. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both, and you, of course. Let’s get you settled in, shall we?”

The smile he offered Lizzy was a fraction more genuine than the one he had offered the elderly couple and Jack knew why; his granddaughter was a very pretty young woman.

Brock’s smile fell when he saw the wheelchair being unloaded.

“I must warn you that the _Keldysh_ isn’t particularly wheelchair friendly…”

“Don’t worry, Mr Lovett,” Jack reassured them all. “It’s only for emergency situations.”

“Grandpa,” Lizzy protested softly. “You know what the doctor said…”

“I’ll be fine…”

They were given neighbouring state rooms, one of which had a marginally larger bed in it than the other, but none of them minded and Lizzy set about unpacking their things. Jack had brought copies of his published portfolios with him, intending to use them as visual aids when it inevitably cake for he and his wife to talk them all through their experiences of that night. They had been published back in the 1960’s when his work had been “discovered” thanks to his daughters who had conspired to send copies of some of his better sketches off to a couple of art galleries with a proposition of doing an exhibition to honour the fiftieth anniversary of the sinking, all without his knowledge. One of the galleries had kept at the chance and Jacks work had been featured for the entire month of April. The exhibition had been featured in newspapers all around the world and from that Jack had been given the opportunity to publish some of his works in two portfolios; _Titanic: The Ship Of Dreams _which had featured only sketches from before the sinking and _Titanic: The Tragedy_. Both had sold extremely well over the years, prompting the portfolios to be republished twice.

He’d donated several of his most popular sketches to various museums over the years, accepting no money for them, and had been asked to take part in a much larger display designed to commemorate the sinking for the seventy-fifth anniversary of the disaster.

His second exhibition had been even more publicised than the first had been, people travelling from all over the world to follow the path laid out chronologically through the gallery so that they would see the ship from its beginning to its end. Other artists, far too young to have actually been there, had been approached to contribute to the exhibition; one of them had focused on the work which had gone into making the _Titanic_, another had focused on the lifeboats whilst the last had been asked to focus on the _Carpathia_. Jack had made himself available to them, answering their questions and viewing their work in the months leading up to the opening so as to help them get everything as close as possible.

A third portfolio had been published as part of the commemorations, containing every image that had been featured with a detailed explanation of what the images showed.

“Are your staterooms alright?”

“Oh, yes, they’re very nice,” Rose answered Brock when he appeared in their doorway with his less than genuine smile. “Have you met our granddaughter, Lizzy? She takes care of us…”

“We just met a few minutes ago,” Lizzy murmured. “Remember, Nana, up on deck?”

“Of course you did,” Rose laughed, hiding her annoyance at having forgotten. “Silly me.”

“Can I get you guys anything?”

Jack met his wife’s gaze before answering simply,

“We’d like to see our drawing.”

Getting them from the stateroom to the room where they were keeping all of the artefacts took quite some doing, particularly when it came to the ladders separating the decks, but the further they moved through the ship the younger Jack felt; it was almost as though returning to this part of the ocean had turned back the clocks, taking him back to his youth.

“Louis XVI wore a fabulous stone that was called the _Blue Diamond of the Crown_ which disappeared in 1792 about the same time old Louis lost everything from the neck up,” Brock explained, mostly for Lizzy’s benefit, as they moved through the ship until eventually they were gazing down at the sketch submerged in a tray of water to keep it safe. “The theory goes that the crown diamond was chopped, too; recut into a heart like shape that became known as the _Heart of the Ocean_. Today it would be worth more than the _Hope Diamond.”_

“It was a dreadful, heavy thing,” Rose muttered. “I only wore it those once.”

Lizzy frowned,

“You really think this is you, Nana?”

“It is me, dear; don’t you recognise your Grandfathers work when you see it?” his spirited wife responded instantly, her voice tinged with disappointment as she nodded to the large books Jack had asked Lizzy to carry for him. The front cover of _Titanic; The Ship Of Dreams_ featured a sketch of Rose descending the grand staircase in the beautiful gown which had caused such a stir when she’d accepted his invitation to experience a real party down on the Third Class levels. There was no denying that the two sketches were of the same women, just as there was no denying that they’d been done by the same artist. “Wasn’t I a dish?”

Jack couldn’t resist the urge to answer her,

“Still are, sweetheart.”

“Flatterer…”

“I tracked it down through insurance records, an old claim that was settled under terms of absolute secret,” Brock explained carefully. “Can you tell me who the claimant was, Rose?”

“I should imagine someone named Hockley.”

“Nathan Hockley, that’s right,” Brock Lovett confirmed as a murmur of surprise and relief spread throughout the crowded room. “Pittsburgh steel tycoon. Claim was for a diamond necklace his son Caledon bought his fiancée, you, a week before he sailed on the _Titanic_.”

_“…Caledon?”_

“Old family name,” Rose explained, shooting Jack a glare until he got his giggle under control. “One that he hated, if I remember correctly, which is why he went by Cal...”

“So a guy named Nathan, a perfectly normal name I might add, called his son _Caledon_?”

“Yes, Jack, that’s how people like the Hockley’s did things back then…”

“It was filed right after the sinking,” Brock interrupted them, dragging them back to the original subject. “So the diamond had to have gone down with the ship. Y’see the date?”

Lizzy leaned down to get a closer look,

“April 14th 1912.”

“Which means that if your grandparents are who they say they are,” Bodine, who had been introduced by Brock as his computer expert and the pilot of the mobile camera that they’d used to explore the wreck of the _Titanic_, explained for those who hadn’t quite understood the significance yet. “Your grandmother was wearing the diamond the day the _Titanic_ sank.”

“And that makes the pair of you my new best friends...”

Jack resisted the urge to laugh; at least the treasure hunter wasn’t trying to be subtle.

“Now, Rose, these are some of the things we recovered from your stateroom.”

“This was mine,” Rose gasped, reaching out to pick up the mirror from the velvet mat covering the table top before anyone could stop her, tracing her fingers over the delicate engravings. “How extraordinary! And it looks the same as it did the last time I saw it.”

She turned it over and grimaced.

“The reflection has changed a bit.”

Her moment of melancholy was mercifully brief as she let out a startled cry, setting the mirror back down and reaching out for a hair slide instead. It was made of tortoiseshell, shaped like a butterfly and was the only item on the able that Jack actually recognised.

A smile appeared on both of their faces as she traced her fingers around the due of the butterflies wings, one of which was damaged; she’d been wearing it in her hair when she had come back to him, when he’d taken her “flying”, when she’d asked him to draw her…

Her hands began to tremble, not from old age but from emotion.

Jack reached out to rest his hand on top of hers as she continued to cradle the hair slide in her lap, the very tips of his fingers coming to rest on the surprisingly cool metal framing the butterflies worryingly delicate glass wings. She’d taken it off before he’d begun to work on her portrait, leaving it behind in her dressing room where it must have remained until now.

Clearing his throat, his excitement barely contained, Brock smiled at the two of them,

“Are you ready to go back to _Titanic_?”

Bodines computer animation of the sinking of the _Titanic_ was about as unsympathetic and emotionless as he could possibly get, the man giving a running commentary as though it were a game or something that had happened only in a movie. Jack felt himself beginning to glare at the lack of respect shown for those who had been trapped aboard the dying ship, his hands shaking as he clenched them into fist when the man added unnecessary sound effects to both the ship breaking in half and the front section coming rest of the ocean floor.

Only the fact that some of his colleagues seemed equally upset by his performance stopped Jack from calling him out or, even worse, trying to punch him; sometimes he struggled to remember that if he behaved as he would like to his brittle bones would simply shatter.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

“Thank you for that forensic analysis, Mr Bodine,” Rose spoke up tightly before Jack could get his anger under control. “Of course, the experience of it was somewhat different…”

“Will you share it with us?”

It wasn’t easy.

In fact it was one of the hardest things they had ever done.

Oh, they’d told people bits and pieces over the years, especially their children who had loved hearing the story of how the two of them had met but they had never shared _everything_ before. They’d always left the worst bits out, especially Jack, but this time they shared every little thing about their time aboard the great ship. Their voices wove together as they each told their point of view, Brock recording it all on tape, and every now and then they’d pause to find the right sketch in Jacks portfolio for their audience to have a look at.

They left nothing out, not even the moment that Rose had given him every part of her in the back of J.J. Astors car in the cargo hold, much to their granddaughters vivid embarrassment.

Rose coming back to rescue him from certain death brought about literal gasps.

Jack insisting that Rose leave him behind so that she’d be safe brought about whimpers.

And Jacks vivid description of the sinking reduced even Brock Lovett to tears.

He told them of how he had lost the hand of the young mother who had begged them to help her, never seeing her or her in fact child again. He told them about Fabrizio and Tommy insisting that he take the door, effectively sacrificing themselves for him and Bertie. He told them how Fabrizio had just faded away. He told them about Tommy blowing the whistle.

By the end his voice was hoarse from a combination of overuse and emotion and he was grateful when Rose talked them through their emotional reunion on board the _Carpathia. _

Silence fell, broken only by gasping breathes and weak sobs.

“…thank you for sharing your story with us,” Brock eventually murmured, slowly turns the tape recorder off. He’d had to change the tape out five times to record it all. “I’m…I’m so sorry for everything you went through. I had…I suppose I refused to let myself think of…”

“The people,” Rose finished for him. “I’m sorry we couldn’t help you find your diamond.”

“That’s alright, Rose,” Brock murmured, surprisingly genuine. Had he seen the glint in Roses eyes as she spoke he may not have been so accepting but only Jack, the man who has spent eighty-four years at her side, recognised it for what it truly was; a secret, one that he was privy to and like her would never share. “We’re done; dives over. Bring up the subs, Ivan.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“We’ll head home first thing in the morning,” he announced to the members of his crew. “Tonight…tonight let’s have that party we were going to have when we found the diamond but let’s have it in honour of the men, women and children who were lost on the _Titanic_.”

The crew were more than happy to celebrate going home early if nothing else.

“Lizzy, dear, go and socialise with the other young people,” Rose answered once they had been helped back to their stateroom and were preparing to go to bed. “We’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Go on.”

Of course as soon as their granddaughter was out of the room the pair of centenarians pulled their dressing downs on over their nightclothes, collected an all important piece of jewellery from Roses travel case and made their way ever so slowly to the back of the ship.

“I feel almost sorry for Mr Lovett,” Jack chuckled somewhat breathlessly as the two of them came to rest heavily against the railings, hands clutching at the cold bars in an unpleasantly familiar manned. “But it wouldn’t be right to let him have it. It belongs with the _Titanic_…”

From her pocket Rose produced the easily identifiable necklace, holding it between them.

One of the hardest things in the early years of their marriage had been the knowledge that they were so rich and yet so poor. They’d never contemplated selling the necklace, though, not even during the _Great Depression._ It didn’t belong to them, not really. It didn’t even belong to Cal no matter how much he might have argued that particular fact. It belonged to the sea that had spared them and those that had perished on the infamous ship of dreams.

Rose had found it in the pocket of the coat Cal had given and hadn’t told anyone for years, not even Jack. He’d only found out by accident after finding it in her jewellery box when he’d accidentally knocked it off of her dressing table. He’d understood her reasons for keeping it hidden, however, and had agreed to let it remain “lost” in the eyes of the world.

Carefully placing his hand on top of hers the two of them stepped up onto the bottom railing, stretched out their arms and released the necklace with a small laugh, watching as it fell from their gnarled fingers into the water below, spinning artfully as it sank out of sight.

“There,” Rose sighed. “It’s finally back where it belongs.”

“Yes,” Jack agreed softly. “I’m tired. Let’s go to bed.”

When Lizzy found them the following morning she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

The couple were spooned together as closely as they could get, their heads sharing one pillow, their hands holding the photograph of their entire family, smiles on their faces.

It would have been beautiful were it not for the fact that neither of them were breathing.

“I’m sorry,” Brock murmured, the woman who would one day become his wife in his arms as she wept. “I’m so sorry. But maybe…maybe they were waiting for this…waiting to come back here so that they could finally be reunited with the friends that they lost that night…”

Brock would never known how right he was.

_When he opened his eyes Jack couldn’t believe what he was seeing; Rose, as she had been when they had first met. She seemed equally as shocked, stepping into his arms which drew his attention to the fact that he too had been returned to the age he had been back then. _

_“Jack…”_

_“Rose…”_

_A throat clearing behind them drew their attention to the fact that they were on the promenade of the Titanic in all its wondrous splendour, not a single thing out of place. _

_They turned, finding the doorman smiling at them. _

_“We’ve been expecting you…”_

_That said he pulled open the door to the atrium and, instinctively, the couple stepped through the now open door only to gasp in shock at the crowd gathered before them. _

_The band who had played until the bitter end…_

_Little Cora and her parents…_

_Trudy, Rose’s loyal maid who had been lost during the sinking…_

_First Officer Murdoch…_

_Mr Andrews…_

_So many faces, everyone crowded close together, but it was the group at the top of the stairs that reduced the new arrivals to tears, that sent them hurrying up the beautiful staircase…._

_Fabrizio, an arm around Helga…_

_Tommy, grinning from ear to ear…_

_And Bertie, a little boy again and held in the arms of his mother whilst his father held the baby and a little girl of about five years old stood beside them; all of them smiling brightly..._

_“Jack…” Rose gasped tearfully, her hand catching his and pulling him to a halt in front of the clock that had once been their all-important rendezvous point. “I think we’re in heaven...”_

_She was right, Jack realised; this was heaven…_

_And so there was only one thing left for him to do…_

_Pulling her into his arms he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her with all the passion he could muster as the crowd burst into applause, holding he kiss for as long as he possibly could… _

_And from the on there was only peace and happiness and love…_

~ THE END ~

**A/N** Almost drove myself to tears writing the end of this. Yeesh! But there it is – done. Hope you enjoyed this slight retelling of what is now a classic movie about a terrible disaster. X 


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